


The Coxwell Boys

by ApresMoi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Not Related, Alternate Universe - Porn, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Original Character(s), POV Dean, POV Original Character, POV Sam, Past Relationship(s), Porn With Plot, Pornstars, Tattooed Dean, Top Dean, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-09 02:11:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3232415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApresMoi/pseuds/ApresMoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is a little down on his luck.  Faced with being homeless and having to leave school, his best friend comes to the rescue.  Sam can join the Coxwell Boys - an elite group of gay male models (who just so happen to do porn).  Sam can't imagine doing such a thing.  That is, right up until he meets Dean Winchester, the most famous and notorious of them all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean has his own issues.  After a blowup with the group's owner, he walks away only to land right back in the business and also in Sam's life.  When his problems become Sam's problems, they'll have to learn to trust each other in order to turn things around.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>  <a href="http://s1156.photobucket.com/user/thecalmunderthewaves/media/Coxwell-Boys_zps77fad468.jpg.html">
    <img/></a><br/></p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	1. Characters

**Author's Note:**

> _While this is a story about the porn industry and things will happen, I will keep the Dean/OMC and Sam/OMC to an absolute minimum. I also prefer not to glamorize the trade, however this is a work of fiction and I have no interest in creating anything too dark. While I have researched certain elements, I'm gonna wing it for the most part. Bear with me and I do hope you enjoy!!_

There are several players in this game so I thought I would share my imagery with anyone who cares to read this. If you don't like that kind of thing and prefer to use your own imagination, by all means skip this. 

I will update with a few more characters when they become relevant. Hope you like! ;)  


Sam Campbell (a.k.a. Sam Colt) 

[](http://s1156.photobucket.com/user/thecalmunderthewaves/media/Sam-Colt_zpsff57ed2c.jpg.html)   


Dean Wesson (a.k.a. Dean Winchester) 

[](http://s1156.photobucket.com/user/thecalmunderthewaves/media/Dean-Winchester_zps77a1cff9.jpg.html)   


Charlie Erikson (a.k.a. Charlie Coxwell) 

[](http://s1156.photobucket.com/user/thecalmunderthewaves/media/Charlie-Coxwell_zpsf0e96b3f.jpg.html)   


David Erikson 

[](http://s1156.photobucket.com/user/thecalmunderthewaves/media/David-Carter_zps3f28781f.jpg.html)   


Alex Marcos (a.k.a. Alex Black) 

[](http://s1156.photobucket.com/user/thecalmunderthewaves/media/Alex-Black_zpsff669c27.jpg.html)   


Felix 

[](http://s1156.photobucket.com/user/thecalmunderthewaves/media/Felix1_zps1d8c1b84.jpg.html)   


Richie Rhodes 

[](http://s1156.photobucket.com/user/thecalmunderthewaves/media/Richie-Rhodes_zpse7456947.jpg.html)   


Hunter 

[](http://s1156.photobucket.com/user/thecalmunderthewaves/media/Hunter_zpsde9a28c6.jpg.html)   


Jason Lee (a.k.a. Jason Lonely, a.k.a. “Lo”) 

[ ](http://s1156.photobucket.com/user/thecalmunderthewaves/media/Jason-Lo-Lonely_zpsf97413cd.jpg.html)


	2. DON'T

[](http://s1156.photobucket.com/user/thecalmunderthewaves/media/Coxwell-Boys_zps77fad468.jpg.html)

“So what do you say, Sam?” 

Sam stared at the well-dressed man seated across from him, unsure as of yet what his own answer might be. He had been hoping against hope that when the question was asked, the right words would just pour from his mouth, leaving his brain out of the whole equation. But, as usual, it seemed that his brain was in high gear and this meant he was going to over think all of it. 

To be fair, it was a situation that warranted over thinking. If you’d asked him just three months before if he’d ever be considering the path before him now, he would have laughed at the absurdity. No way in Hell! Yet there he was, in a posh restaurant in mid-town Manhattan, stuffed into his best suit (the ony one he hadn’t sold yet) and seated across from one of the biggest adult film producers in North America. 

“I…uh…” Sam stumbled, fidgeting with the collar of the black dress coat. 

Before he could manage to say – or not say – anything further, a cell phone rang and the man gave a tight-lipped apologetic smile. “Will you please excuse me? I’ve been waiting for this call. I’ll just be a moment.” He cut his eyes towards Alex, Sam’s roommate and only friend in New York. “Work on him,” he commanded playfully. 

As soon as the other man was halfway to the door, Sam slumped in his seat and sighed at the momentary reprieve he’d been given. 

“What are you doing?” 

Sam frowned at the hissed words. “What?” He looked at the man sitting to his right. 

Alex Marcos, also known as Alex Black, was looking at Sam with an expression that clearly conveyed that his friend though he was screwing things up royally. 

“Stop being so damn wishy-washy. You said you wanted the meeting. And Charlie Coxwell does _not_ offer just anyone a place in the stable after the first meeting.” 

“Stable,” Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes, not for the first time. “I swear it makes you all sound like a bunch of horses.” 

This made Alex smirk as he waggled his eyebrows. “Well you are hung like-,” 

“Alex! Maybe it was an easy choice for you, but this isn’t something I take lightly. I mean… this is big. Big, big. Like, no turning back kind of stuff.” 

“Yeah? So is being homeless and tossed out of college,” his friend pointed out in that obnoxiously logical way he had. 

Sam sat back in his chair and ran shaky fingers through his hair. It was quite the predicament he found himself in. 

“Hey,” Alex started, his voice softer now, obviously having recognized Sam’s very real distress over the decision. “You’re my friend. Have been since the moment you sat beside me in Psych class first day your Freshman year.” 

He felt heat on his face as he blushed but he still sniffed a little laugh at the memory of that fateful day. He had actually been in the wrong class altogether, which he’d realized when the professor stood and began welcoming them to Psychology 285 instead of American Studies which had been the class he was supposed to be in. He had been too embarrassed to get up and walk out of the lecture hall so he endured the entire hour with a red face and an internal dialogue that was pure self-deprecation. To make matters worse, Sam had stood at the end of the lecture and his entire backpack full of textbooks had spilled onto the floor. Alex had been kind enough to help him and realized Sam’s class mistake after they began talking and comparing schedules. Alex had laughed it off, saying surely they had moved the class and insisted he help Sam figure out where the American Studies class was supposed to meet. To Sam who was new to New York and unsure of his surroundings as a whole, Alex had been a Godsend. 

Alex loved the story. But then, he loved any story that made Sam look like a goober. He said it was because Sam was so perfect all of the time it was refreshing to see that he was a mere human, just like the rest of the plebs. 

Sam had definitely shown plenty of his fallible side as of late, that was for damn sure. 

Hence the meeting. 

“I’m just so amazed by what you’ve done, Sam. I am beyond proud of you, man!” Alex shook his head, his shaggy brown hair fluffing with the movement. “Standing up to your parents like you did… It was fuckin’ beautiful and I hope you don’t regret a second of it. But, well, reality is about to hit. Hard.” 

Sam looked down at the empty white plate before him, which had previously contained both steak and lobster. That is, before he’d scarfed it down like a man possessed. It was a stark contrast to the pack of peanut butter crackers he’d had for lunch. And the ramen noodles he’d had for lunch _and_ dinner the day before. 

His stomach twisted. He knew Alex was right. He had been looking for a job for months. No one was hiring. The one lead he’d had was for a minimum wage job that refused to work around a school schedule. He was two months behind on rent and tuition for his senior year at NYU, had to be posted in the next three weeks or he wouldn’t be allowed to register for Fall semester and would be forced to reapply the next year if he had any hopes of graduating. 

“I know what you think of this. Of what I do.” 

“I have never looked down on you,” Sam said quickly, a little put out that his friend would even entertain the idea that he was judging him. They had never had that sort of relationship. 

“No,” Alex amended, “But you are, like, physically _incapable_ of lying. And you always get this little…” He frowned with one side of his mouth as though he were trying to convert thought to speech. “When I talk about it you get this little look of…constipation. Maybe pity? I don’t know.” 

“I don’t mean to. And I don’t pity you. I just think you’re worth more than this.” 

“Hell yeah I’m worth more. But this isn’t forever, Sam. It’s just for right now. And right now, I’m having fun with hot guys, getting my dick sucked and my bills paid simultaneously.” He leaned forward over his barely touched plate of Chicken Kiev. “Your parents obviously aren’t going to change their minds. And as much as I love you and want to help, I can’t keep covering all of the bills.” 

“I know. Of course you can’t. I would never ask you to. You’ve been… you’ve been an amazing friend helping me. And I appreciate all that you’ve done. I just don’t know if I’m right for this. I’m… Well, I’m _me_ , for one.” 

“Clumsiest, most awkward motherfucker I ever met,” Alex agreed with a broad grin. 

“Gee, thanks,” Sam deadpanned. 

His friend reached across the table and covered Sam’s fingers that had begun beating out an anxious tapping rhythm on the tabletop. “But you’re also one of the hottest and sweetest people I’ve ever known as well. And smartest.” He squeezed his hand for emphasis. “Sam, with your personality and that whole ridiculous ‘walking-wet-dream-next-door’ package… You could be a star!” 

“Don’t wanna be a star. Just want to _not_ be homeless.” And that’s what it came down to. It wasn’t a pretty decision. 

Alex looked at him for a long minute. “I…won’t push you. If you don’t’ want to do it, don’t do it. Maybe we can squeeze another person in the apartment to help cover expenses for a while.” 

Sam smiled softly at his friend. He knew he’d gone through a lot of trouble to get Sam a face-to-face meeting with Charlie, the big-boss and founder of Coxwell Entertainment. The fact that he wasn’t going to push meant a lot to Sam. It was his easy and graceful way out. No harm, no foul. He could keep his integrity and his friend. And he knew Alex enough to know he was being real with him. They would have a third roommate in their little shoebox apartment by the end of the week if that were the way he chose to go. 

But when it came down to it, he couldn’t continue to let Alex deal with his problems. He needed the money so he needed to be the one to take care of things. Charlie had offered him a rather substantial amount for a first film. Enough money, in fact, to make a down payment on his fall tuition and kick in for the current month’s rent. 

And, well, who didn’t like sex, right? 

He’d seen a few of the films that Alex had been in. Enough to know that he was fairly sure he could do the job. Maybe, with the right partner, even enjoy it. He also knew that they weren’t cheesy cliché, badly lit skin flicks. For the most part they were artfully portrayed ‘sexual situations’. No expenses spared and all tastefully done. 

Well… They were as tasteful as they could be when you were watching an asshole getting drilled by nine inches and a minute long money shot onto someone’s chest. 

Charlie had explained his vision in detail. He didn’t film sex for the sole sake of sex. He wrote every film personally and he liked to use his own artistic take on life to influence the scenes. His business plan was also unlike any in the industry. He kept a small group of ‘models’ in his employ and they were all under strict contract, which ensured they were exclusive to his films and images. None of them lifted a finger professionally without the Coxwell seal of approval. The guys were all beautiful and each cultivated a following online and in the clubs. This kept the business flourishing and the fans engaged. 

To be certain all was harmonious, the actors were paid quite well for each scene and also received small royalties for any films in distribution. Where most companies in the gay porn industry paid the actors strictly by the scene and at the slight amount of around five hundred dollars or so, the Coxwell boys received a minimum of one thousand dollars. A spot in a group like this was one of the most coveted for all porn actors. There were even straight men that went ‘gay-for-pay’, as they called it, just for a shot to work for Charlie Coxwell. 

“Maybe…” 

Before he could finish the sentence, Charlie returned to the table, adjusting his green silk tie, the same color as his eyes, with a sigh and a smile. 

“I do apologize. It’s the unavoidable trap of working with distribution partners oversees, I’m afraid.” He clasped his hands together and rested his chin on top of steepled fingers. “So, have you made a decision? Have we piqued your interest or do you need a little more wining and dining?” He asked, winking conspiratorially at Alex. 

Sam hesitated, collecting his thoughts. “I am. Interested, that is.” 

“Wonderful!” 

“But cautious,” he added quickly. “Your offer is very generous.” 

“It’s true we don’t make a habit of non-contractual films. We have made the rare exception in the past, but we’ve found that try-outs aren’t in our best interest to put on film. There’s just something about you, Sam. I have a feeling you would be a natural. Due to recent…unfortunate circumstances, we have one spot open, and I think you would be a perfect fit at Coxwell.” 

“It all sounds great. But…” 

Charlie smirked, knowingly. “You don’t want to feel like you’ve sold out? Sold _yourself_? Well the truth of the matter is that you _are_ selling part of yourself. Your pleasure, your enjoyment, your time, your image; All of that will be captured and you will be paid quite fairly, I assure you. But selling out…?” He looked thoughtfully at Sam but spoke to Alex. “Where are the boys tonight?” 

Sam watched Alex pull his ever-handy phone from the pocket of his khakis and begin typing out messages. Within a minute three chimes rang out in rapid succession. His friend’s mouth curled up at the corners in a look that Sam knew well. 

Mischief. 

“Looks like they’re at Swell.” 

“Of course they are.” Charlie put his hand up, casually signaling to the waiter that they were ready for the bill. “Sam, if you’ll indulge me a bit longer, I’d like to introduce you to my boys. We’re a close-knit group, as I’m sure Alex has mentioned. More like family, really.” 

Alex had mentioned how his ‘coworkers’ were like brothers (which when you thought about it, sounded like an odd way to categorize guys that you fucked and were fucked by on a semi-regular basis). Whenever it was spoken about, however, it was short and sporadic pieces of conversation. It almost felt like Alex was part of a secret society that Sam would never have insight into. Like he was under a code of silence. Now he wondered if the closed-lipped policy had more to do with Sam’s reactions and because his friend thought he secretly disapproved. 

“Give me tonight. We’ll go to Swell and you can meet some of the boys you would be working with. Tomorrow, you can give me your answer.” 

“Sounds fair to me,” Alex piped in, looking both curiously nervous and excited but completely unable to sit still at that point. Sam thought he might vibrate off of the chair if he weren’t careful. 

“Alright,” he agreed. What harm could it do? Plus it would give him time to think. Come to peace with a decision. So he wouldn’t do anything rash and come to regret it. “Let’s do it.” 

Charlie smiled brightly and gave him a nod of approval, making Sam feel as though he’d done something far greater than agreeing to go to a nightclub to meet a bunch of porn stars. Sam thought, after only a few hours even knowing the man, that Charlie was just the sort of person that made you want to please him. 

After Charlie had settled the bill, they filed out onto the sidewalk just in time to see a long black limousine pull up to the curb, the door lined up perfectly with the restaurants awning that was shielding them from the late summer shower that had started up while they had been inside eating. 

The doorman stepped out with an umbrella and opened the door for them. 

Charlie swept an arm in the direction of the sleek car and smiled at Sam. “After you.” 

Sam blinked. He couldn’t help but laugh a little at his own excitement. He had grown up in a fairly well-off family but the closest thing to a limo that he had ever been in was the shuttle his cousin Tiffany had hired for her wedding to take people from their cars to the ‘middle of nowhere’ venue. 

“Don’t get used to it,” Alex said, standing by patiently as Sam folded his tall frame into the car. “He’s just trying to impress you,” he joked and got a friendly cuff on the back of his head for his trouble. 

“Smart ass,” Charlie quipped and narrowed his eyes at Alex. 

There was no question the interaction was playful. Alex smiled cheekily back at David and, not for the first time that night, Sam caught a glimpse of the informal, almost affectionate nature of their relationship. It was as if Charlie wasn’t so much the man that signed their checks but was more just one of the guys. 

Sam had to admit, when Alex had told him he’d gotten him a sit-down meeting with his boss, he had pictured a greasy middle-aged dirtbag who would look like he smelled of onions, wore a cheap eighties-era suit, and had a cigar firmly ensconced in the corner of his mouth. 

Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined the brains behind Coxwell Entertainment might look like a smooth but stylishly scruffy ‘pre-Angelina’ Brad Pitt dressed head to toe in Armani. 

And, despite being only thirty-two, the man was already a millionaire with several businesses under his banner. He was intelligent and charismatic. He was pretty damn hot. He was, in short, extremely impressive and surprisingly likeable. 

If the situation wasn’t what it was – namely Sam choosing between being destitute and being a prostitute – he felt like he might actually have the makings of a crush before him. 

[ ](http://s1156.photobucket.com/user/thecalmunderthewaves/media/sam-cox-banner_zpsb0505b22.jpg.html)

It turned out that the club, Swell, was actually the very same club of which Charlie was part-owner. It was only a few miles away from the restaurant but with traffic at a near stand-still the journey was likely to take at least half an hour. 

Normally Sam would have been rolling his eyes wondering why people bothered when walking was free and typically faster on the streets of Manhattan, but he shrugged it off as he was having far too much fun sitting in the plush leather seat watching the city’s foot traffic stream past. 

As soon as they’d all settled in the car, Alex had pulled a crystal decanter from a low inset shelf set beneath the darkly tinted privacy panel that separated them from the driver, and poured them each a small tumbler of scotch with Charlie’s blessing. Sam sighed and let the golden liquid slide down his throat, warming his insides and calming some of his nerves. 

Charlie took his glass with a nod of thanks and pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to see if David is free. I’d like him to meet you as well.” 

Sam nodded and his eyes darted to Alex who was staring out of the window, trying far too hard to look uninterested. 

David, besides being Charlie’s brother, was the co-owner of Coxwell Entertainment. He was also one of the only people Alex had ever really talked about at length during the entire two years he’d been working in ‘the business’. Each time he mentioned David, his eyes lit up, though he would never admit his serious interest in the man. He would blow it off saying that he was having far too much fun to be seriously into any one guy. Plus he was sure David wasn’t interested in anything like that. 

It was total bullshit and Sam found himself hoping he was going to get to meet the mystery man that had his roommate all in knots. 

“David. Yes… David, why are you working on that right now? You do realize it’s past nine on a Friday, right?” Charlie laughed. “I swear you need to get laid,” he mumbled into the receiver. “Okay, okay. I do actually have a reason for calling you, believe it or not. Would you be able to come down to the club? We have a potential new actor here and I must say I’m quite taken with him already.” 

Charlie picked at an invisible piece of lint on his pants as he said this so thankfully he missed Sam’s face going beet red at his words. 

“No. Yes I understand his contract hasn’t technically been severed. Fine. He’s taking a ‘break’,” he growled but seemed to catch himself, his voice quickly returning to a businesslike hum. “I do understand this, however we still have an active spot to fill and I do not lie when I say I think this young man would be absolutely perfect.” Charlie winked at Sam. “Great.” 

When he put his phone away, he found Sam and Alex both looking at him a little expectantly, whether they realized it or not. “He’s going to meet us there.” 

Half an hour later, as expected, they pulled up in front of the club. Sam took in the nondescript building. It might just have been a packing warehouse sandwiched between a Starbucks and several upscale bistros except there was a bright blue neon sign that read “sweLL” across the top right side of the plain white façade. 

Sam had only heard about the place in passing and only really from Alex. It must have been a pretty popular place, though, because there was a line wrapped all the way around the block. The line consisted of beautiful people dressed in a wide array of bright clothing. Some wore shirts that announced some expensive designer brand while others wore hardly anything at all. A mixed bag, to be sure, all vying to be on the inside. 

Charlie lead them straight to the door and the bouncer, a very large man with a goatee, a crew cut, and more muscles than Sam had ever seen on one person in his life, unclipped the red velvet rope from the stanchion and allowed them to pass without a word. 

Sam heard several people complain and he ducked his head hurrying to keep up with Charlie in the unfamiliar setting. 

Abruptly Charlie and Alex stopped in the brightly lit foyer. Alex gripped Sam’s arm and inclined his head towards a strikingly handsome man checking his coat with a boy, surely no more than nineteen, wearing what looked to be nothing but white hot pants. 

“David! How on earth did you beat us here?” Charlie called out. 

Ah… So _this_ was David. 

Sam patted Alex’s hand, still firmly clasped around his forearm. When Alex realized this, he pulled his hand away and smiled sheepishly. 

As they neared, Sam could see the family resemblance between the two businessmen. They were both tall. Not as tall as his own six foot four, but they were both definitely holding their own at around six foot. They were both blonde with lovely olive green eyes. They were both classically beautiful. 

Upon first glance, the brothers’ differences came down to style. Where Charlie seemed more laid back, even in his expensive suit, he wore his blonde hair longer. David’s suit looked tailored and pressed perfectly and there was nary an expertly cut hair out of place. While Charlie wore a trimmed beard – which for some reason Sam was finding pretty sexy with each passing moment – David look freshly shaven. 

David nodded at his brother and then smiled at Sam and Alex. His grin wasn’t quite as infectious as Charlie’s. It didn’t promise fun and excitement. David’s smile was somewhat distant. Formal. “Alex. Nice to see you,” he said cordially. “And you must be the young man my brother is so taken with.” 

His serious eyes swept over Sam in an appraising manner and Sam wanted to shrink under the studious gaze, but he forced himself to stand straight and tall. 

“Sam,” he supplied, holding his hand out. 

David took his hand between both of his and met Sam’s eyes, his shake solid and warm despite his formal manner. “Good to meet you, Sam.” 

“Sam, David here, besides being my handsome older brother, is also my business partner. He owns half of Coxwell. He’s the ‘brains’ of the operation.” 

“The brains,” David scoffed at the description. “I’m over the finances and planning. Charlie handles the creative side of things.” 

The young man that had previously checked David’s coat was now taking Sam and Charlie’s suit jackets. Alex refused to part with his leather jacket and popped the guy’s hand when he tried to peel it off of him. 

A second man, this one in assless black shorts, approached and whispered something to Charlie. When he withdrew, Charlie turned back to the group and shook his head. “My job is never done. Seems there is a small issue that needs to be dealt with in the back. David, would you mind showing our guest to the VIP area? Perhaps introduce him around?” 

David nodded putting his hands behind his back. “Of course.” 

Once Charlie left them with a promise to meet up with them shortly, David seemed to relax just a bit, his smile widening. “Alex, would you like to lead the way?” 

“Sure…David…” Alex replied a little breathlessly. Sam raised an eyebrow at the timid sound coming from his usually boisterous friend. 

“So Sam, what made you decide to pursue pornography?” 

Sam cleared his throat and shrugged. “Impending poverty? A supreme hatred of ramen noodles?” 

David laughed, obviously surprised by his answer. “Sorry. I don’t mean to laugh at your situation, you understand. I just… it’s just not usually how people answer.” 

“I like to be honest. I’ve been told I’m physically incapable of lying.” 

Alex looked at Sam over his shoulder, hearing his own words quoted back and sniffed. 

“Not a horrible trait to possess.” 

“As long as it’s not used against me.” 

David nodded at that and quieted as they followed Alex up a sweeping carpeted staircase to the right of the foyer. 

As they moved up the stairs, Sam glanced back at David and noted that he was staring at Alex’s backside as he moved in front of them. David’s eyes moved to Sam and realized he’d been caught. The man frowned, his eyes darting away quickly. Interesting. He smiled to himself and wondered if the attraction was as one sided as Alex seemed to think it was. 

In the meantime, he shut his mouth and kept walking. 

[ ](http://s1156.photobucket.com/user/thecalmunderthewaves/media/sam-cox-banner_zpsb0505b22.jpg.html)

Swell was like nothing Sam had ever seen in a club before. Not that he made a habit of frequenting clubs. He was more of the stay at home and study type. But he felt confident in saying that Swell was pretty unique as far as clubs went. At least outside of Las Vegas. 

The club was one huge sprawling dance floor with giant gray stone pillars placed sporadically throughout the lower level. The stones were wide and had rails around them and upon each pillar there was a beautiful dancing boy. The go-go boys’ attire left little to the imagination but they moved and swayed perfectly with the music, showing off their…assets. Occasionally they would swing themselves down into the crowd using strategically placed poles or ropes. The skimpy shorts were quickly crammed full of dollars. 

A steel mesh catwalk ran the entire length of the building and was suspended twenty feet above the main dance floor. There was a spiral staircase at each end, a straight staircase in the center that sat alongside a large clear twisting slide that was similar to what one might see on a playground. At the far end of the catwalk stood another pillar only it was black and wider still. Upon the top of this massive stone stood a DJ, headphone to one ear and hands flying across a soundboard as she worked to splice two songs together seamlessly. 

The club was dark but white strobes and circling orange and red and blue spotlights lit the crowd enough to see everything. 

The VIP lounge was something altogether different. It was located on the third level of the club and sat overlooking the rest of crowd. Instead of the spotlights that lit the dance floor, the VIPs were lit with partially concealed sconces along the walls. The lighting was ambient and sexy - if light could be described as sexy. 

Instead of a railing around the curving expanse of space, there was a wall of glass that allowed the VIPs to look out on the crowd below with ease. David pointed out that the glass was a one-way mirror that granted the area complete privacy. It also kept the music at an optimum level so that you could dance on the smaller dance floor or you could still comfortably hold a conversation. 

Alex had lead them all the way to the farthest alcove of the upper floor where sat a group of the most beautiful boys Sam had ever laid eyes on. He felt almost shy walking up to them. They each radiated confidence and sex appeal to a point that seemed almost otherworldly. No one could mistake that they _were_ the Coxwell Boys. 

Before Alex and David could even introduce the first of them, a thin waif of a boy in nothing but jeans bounded up to them like an excitable puppy. 

“Alex! You’re here!” He laughed happily and wrapped his arms around Alex, leaning in for a familiar kiss. Alex turned his face just a bit so the kiss caught him on the side of the mouth instead of a full-on lip lock. 

Sam felt David stiffen just a bit beside him and he had to hide his smile, feigning clearing his throat to do so. 

Alex put his arm around the dark haired boy’s shoulders. “Hunter, Felix,” he indicated a second man who had joined them, “I want you to meet my best friend, Sam. He’s considering joining the ranks.” 

Hunter looked him over and his smile bubbled over, sweeter than spun sugar. He waved happily from his spot beside Alex. 

Felix, a tall muscular blonde who was nursing a martini, took a little longer in his appraisal. His eyes skimmed Sam from the tips of his dress shoes to the top of his head, all in slow motion. It felt a bit like he was being mentally undressed and his face warmed beneath the attention. When he was done he looked at Sam directly in the eye and gave him a shark-like smile. All teeth and dirty intent. “Hello, Sam.” Even just those two words sounded like a proposition, for what exactly Sam didn’t know. 

“Down boy,” Alex said, laughing and slugging Felix in the shoulder. “Don’t frighten him away.” 

“Frighten? Little ole me?” Felix took another sip of his drink and sighed as though he were put upon by the thought. Sam wondered if he were maybe a little drunk as he jerked just a bit and some of the liquid in the martini glass sloshed over the side. “So! Are you a top? Bottom? Both?” 

Sam felt his eyes widen and, although he couldn’t have said why at that moment, he immediately sputtered, “Top!” 

“Of course you are!” Hunter laughed. “Look at him Felix. He screams ‘top’, baby.” 

“Lucky for you I’m real easy either way,” Felix slurred, leaning into Sam’s personal space. 

“Felix frightening people again?” Another man appeared behind the blonde, wrapping his arm around Felix’s middle. The move looked like one of someone staking a claim, however in this circumstance, Sam was fairly sure the move was calculated to bring Felix back in line without him knowing it. 

The new man had long dark hair and dark eyes. He looked like the type that could be found brooding in a library or coffee shop, staring soulfully and thoughtfully off into space. There was something poetic about him. And yet the muscular perfection that was his naked torso, led Sam to believe his time was more likely spent in the gym. 

The chocolate brown eyes found Sam’s and he smiled softly but genuinely. “You must be Sam. Alex mentioned he might be bringing you ‘round.” A hand was presented and Sam shook it feeling a little more at ease with this particular man. “Richie Rhodes.” 

Sam smiled. “Nice to meet you.” 

Richie blinked his long black eyelashes and turned his smile to Felix. “How about we go dance. Maybe find you a nice little go-go boy to take your troubles away?” 

Felix sighed again and nodded, leaning to kiss Richie’s forehead. “Bathroom first.” The blonde turned and stumbled away. Richie smiled this time apologetically. “Sorry about him. His boyfriend dumped him last night.” 

“Again?” Alex asked, seeming unsurprised by this news. 

“Yeah. Only this time via text.” 

“That’s harsh,” Sam chimed in, feeling more at ease with the current group dynamic. 

“No kidding. He sent Felix a picture of himself blowing another guy.” 

Alex whistled. “Shit. Can’t unsee _that_.” 

“The guy got fed up. Couldn’t handle Felix being in the biz,” Richie explained. 

Sam nodded and wondered what it would be like to be involved with someone and know that their job required them to have sex other people. Of course…if that was an issue, he couldn’t see why the relationship had ever happened in the first place. He certainly wouldn’t be able to be involved with someone in that situation. 

Felix returned and Richie gave Sam one last wave before leading the man towards the stairs. 

Alex led them further into the alcove, Hunter still hanging on him and occasionally whispering in his ear. Alex seemed immune to the young man but not completely annoyed. 

Sam was introduced to five or six more men, all hot in their own very marketable way, but their names went in one ear and out of the other. Their reactions to meeting him varied and ranged from boredom to genuine excitement over the possibility of a new addition. Sam noticed the ones least excited were men built more like him. He assumed they saw him as competition. He could understand the thinking, however he couldn’t wrap his brain around the idea that he could compete with any of the male models he was currently standing toe to toe with. 

One thing he noticed, which he found odd, was that not a single person acknowledged David’s presence. David seemed perfectly happy to fade into the background, standing several paces behind Sam at each introduction. 

Sam frowned and looked back at the man as Alex motioned towards the bar. “Is everything alright?” 

David seemed shocked that he was speaking to him and even looked around to make sure Sam’s question was directed his way. “Oh. Um, yes. I… I am sorry. I’m being rude, aren’t I? I must admit, I’m not the best host in the world. That honor goes to my brother. He likes to be out with the boys. Me? I’m better behind the scenes.” David fidgeted, adjusting his cufflinks, and frowned. “Good thing we had Alex here.” 

“Yes. Alex is always handy to have around.” 

“You’ve been…” David’s eyes seemed to float to just beyond Sam’s shoulder and Sam knew the man was following his roommate’s movement towards the bar. “…friends with him for a while?” 

“Around three years now.” Sam pulled his lips between his teeth, trying to keep his expression flat. He wondered if David knew just how transparent he was. “He’s a great guy.” 

“Yes. He’s always very nice.” 

“Kind.” 

“Very.” 

“Smart.” 

“Indeed.” 

“Hot.” 

“Extremely.” 

Sam and David both paused and Sam watched as the color drained from David’s face as if his plug had been pulled. “It’s okay,” he assured the man. 

“W-well, all of our actors are h-hot. It is something of a requirement for…” 

Sam arched an eyebrow. “He likes you too, ya know.” 

David frowned. “I don’t know what you’re…” he tried to play the whole thing off with feigned ignorance. He failed. 

“Okay,” Sam allowed. He put his hands up in a neutral gesture. “Forget I said anything. I just figured it might be of interest. To someone. Maybe.” He shrugged and turned towards the bar. 

He hadn’t moved but a step when a strong hand wrapped around his bicep. “Wait.” David pulled him back around. “I’m sorry. I…am… I’t just that…I don’t make it a habit to… _dip my quill_ in the company ink. Understand?” 

Sam nodded, feeling disappointment on Alex’s behalf. “I can see where that might be a good policy. Look, I wont’ say anything to him. We can pretend I never said anything at all.” 

David frowned at this as though that idea might be even worse than the idea of dating an employee. Or maybe Sam was just seeing what he wanted to see. “Yes. Alright. Thank you,” David said, the words being forced out in short bursts. 

Again David’s gaze drifted to just beyond Sam’s shoulder. He wondered at the self-imposed torture. But then David’s gaze shifted slightly and Sam watched his eyes go wide. Before he knew what was happening, David had rushed past him and was marching headlong towards the bar. 

Not knowing what else to do, Sam turned and followed. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Sam overheard David snap. 

There were several people settled on the swanky leather stools that were placed against the bar itself but he couldn’t tell who David was speaking to. 

That is, of course, until he moved to David’s side and his eyes rested on the most gorgeous man Sam had ever seen. 

He was sandwiched between two of the other models, but he could have been the only one in the room as far as Sam was concerned. 

The man wasn’t classically beautiful like David and Charlie. Wasn’t ‘cute’ or ‘hot’ like the other men that were surrounding him now. He was the type of man that spurred the advent of the words ‘remarkable’ and ‘ruggedly handsome’. 

Sam had never known he had a ‘type’ before that moment. But from his closely cropped dirty blonde hair to the heavy five o’clock shadow that darkened his jaw line to the multitude of tattoos that covered his neck and muscular arms... Sam’s ‘type’ was apparently sitting right in front of him. 

“Didn’t know you were back,” David said, stretching his voice slightly to be heard over the thumping music and thrum of conversation. 

“Didn’t tell you.” The man said, taking a long sip from a bottle of beer. David stared at him levelly until the man broke with a beleaguered sigh. “I got back yesterday. I was going to call you tomorrow.” 

Sam could see that David’s jaw was tight. “Charlie know?” 

“Of course not.” 

“Well he’s here now so I suggest you call it a night for your own good.” 

The man stood and got in David’s space. Not in an aggressive way but in a way that made it seem like he needed David to hear him. “David. We’ve been friends a long time. You ever see me back down from Charlie?” 

The fight left David and he smiled sadly at the guy. “Just… You know I’m trying to keep the peace. You know you can come back any time. I just don’t want to see you hurt.” The guy scoffed at David’s words and David closed his eyes as if realizing his mistake. “You know what I mean.” 

“Yeah. I know.” The guy pulled David into the circle of his arms and David went willingly. The embrace wasn’t sexual in nature. It looked like what Sam pictured it must look like when he hugged Alex. Friendship extended within intimacy. 

The guy opened his eyes after a moment and suddenly Sam noted that he was staring directly at _him_. He pulled back from David and licked his lips in what looked like a habitual manner. “Gonna introduce me to your friend, Davey?” 

David started as if only just realizing that he had just had a semi-private moment in a very public venue. “Oh. Yes. Yes! Oh, this is Sam. He’s Alex’s friend. Possibly going to…” David cleared his throat. “Sam. I would like you to meet one of our…” He glance sidelong at the man, “ _wayward_ Coxwell boys. Dean Winchester.” 

[ ](http://s1156.photobucket.com/user/thecalmunderthewaves/media/sam-cox-banner_zpsb0505b22.jpg.html)

“Why wayward?” 

“Excuse me?” 

Sam took the newly empty seat next to Dean, David having moved off to take a phone call and Alex nowhere to be seen. 

“David called you one of their ‘wayward boys’. Why wayward?” 

The guy sniffed and drummed his fingers on the bar top. “Decided to take a… _hiatus_ , I guess you could say.” 

“That’s too bad.” The words were edged with very real disappointment. Sam had spent the last few minutes trying hard not to imagine doing a scene with Dean Winchester. The mere idea of this tattooed bad boy beneath him already had him warmed up and he shifted, adjusting his pants and hoping no one would notice how acute his interest really was. 

Dean looked at him for a minute. His eyes took in Sam, leaf green eyes traveling slowly over Sam’s clothed body but unlike when the others looked at him, he didn’t feel ill at ease in the slightest. He felt…sexy. Like he fit in just fine with all of the beautiful boys of Coxwell Entertainment. In fact it was all he could do to keep himself from offering to show Dean more. Privately. 

“Trust me, I’m a little disappointed at my own timing right now.” The guy smiled ruefully. “So you’re roommies with Alex? Yeah, he’s a good guy.” 

“Yeah. He seems to think so too.” 

Dean laughed, the sound both biting and smooth, like aged bourbon. “So what do you do, Sam? Besides hang out with porn stars?” 

Sam shrugged. “Go to school. NYU. Was going for medicine. Now…Um, I’m working on a degree in film. I want to direct.” 

“Ah. An artist.” His bright smile showed a line of near perfect white teeth. “Always had a soft side for creative types.” 

Sam blushed and looked up at Dean through his eyelashes. “So…what do you do?” 

“You mean when I’m not fucking for a living?” He laughed outright before Sam could get flustered. “Honestly, Sam? I don’t know. Maybe that’s why I’m leaving. Gonna… ‘find myself’.” He rolled his eyes and rubbed his hand over the scruff on his jaw. “Shit that sounds cliché.” 

“Not a single thing wrong with that, ya know? Life is too short to never know what you want.” Sam spoke from personal experience. 

Dean looked at him. This time it wasn’t his face or his body he was examining. Sam felt like the other man was looking inside. Seeing something beyond his eyes. 

“Very wise, Sam.” 

They quietly stared at one another for a few long moments, their smiles growing with each passing moment. 

Finally Sam broke the spell. “Think you’ll come back?” 

“Couldn’t say.” At this point Dean’s smile fell away a bit and he turned his attention to his bottle of beer, using his thumb to pick at the edge of the label. 

Sam felt the change settle over them and could’ve kicked himself for saying anything. For breaking what seemed like a singular, perfect moment in time. “For what it’s worth, I hope you do,” he said quietly. 

Dean nodded, seemingly distracted now. His eyes stayed on the bottle in his hands. 

Another few minutes passed in silence. It was uncomfortable and was eating at Sam. He searched for something to say. _Anything_ that might get the other man talking again. Smiling again. 

“So… Um, I’m still thinking about signing on. With Coxwell. Any advice you might impart?” 

“Yeah,” Dean’s voice cut like a razor. He put his bottle down on the bar top and moved off of the stool as he looked hard a Sam one last time. “Don’t.” 

And with that, he turned and walked away.


	3. PREP

[](http://s1156.photobucket.com/user/thecalmunderthewaves/media/Coxwell-Boys_zps77fad468.jpg.html)

 

Sam was going to be sick. That’s all there was to it. 

He paced restlessly around the apartment like a caged animal. He turned on the television and almost immediately switched it back off again, realizing he was in no mood to sit still long enough to watch something. He picked up some muscle magazine Alex subscribed to and flipped through the glossy pages only to toss it back on the kitchen counter with a disgusted sigh. He grabbed the stuff out of the fridge to make cheese toast but before he could even pull the bread out, he’d already realized that due to an unsettled stomach situation eating was probably not the best idea either. 

It had taken Alex all of fifteen minutes to get fed up with the whole twitchy space cadet thing Sam had going on. 

“It’s going to be fine,” he said for the hundredth time that day as he leaned casually against the frame of the door to the kitchen, arms folded across his chest. Alex looked so laid back. Like he hadn’t a care in the world. Like his roommate and best friend wasn’t going to the gallows in less than twelve hours now. 

“Easy for you to say,” Sam huffed. “Your junk is already out there for the world to see. You’ve _proven_ yourself.” 

Alex’s expression was somehow equal parts affection and annoyance. “It’s not rocket science, Sam. You go in there, you fuck the guy a few times and then you get out.” He crossed over and slipped an arm around Sam’s shoulders. “You’re hot, man. Deep down, you know you are.” 

Sam rolled his eyes but didn’t dispute the fact. He at least could admit that he was appealing to a certain percentage of the population. 

“You’re also straight-up packin’ so no embarrassment factor there.” 

This particular little fact was known to Alex, not because of an ill-timed ‘roommate busting through the door’ type incident, but because of a disastrous week after they’d met when they believed they might actually be more than friends. After a few awkward ‘dates’ and several fairly awesome hours between the sheets they still couldn’t get past the general feeling that they were each kissing their brother so the whole thing had been swept under the rug with a promise never to speak of it again. 

Alex continued on, squeezing the tense muscles in Sam’s neck. “We’ve taken care of the maintenance so you’re gonna look amazing on film!” 

Sam winced at the mere mention of the word ‘maintenance’. It had been such an innocuous word only seven days ago. Now it filled him with dread and a phantom pain that he wasn’t sure would ever fully leave him. 

First there had been hours spent at the gym. If Alex wasn’t busy, then Sam had been coerced and bullied into joining Alex for long runs, for weight training, and even once a hot yoga class (which, he swore to Alex, would call on an ass-kicking if it was ever suggested again). He’d spent the entire week sore in places he didn’t even know he could be sore. 

Next was the tanning bed. Sam wasn’t big on tanning. He’d spent so many years being told by his father about all of the patients he saw for skin cancer in part due to those stupid things. He took the warning to heart and after one session, where he’d managed little more than to turn his white ass pink, he’d put his foot down and nixed any further visits. 

Then there was the waxing. Over an hour had been spent, lying flat on a padded table while a very short Russian girl with bleached blonde hair had popped gum between her teeth and casually ripped out half of his manhood. Alex had scheduled him for a Brazilian and he had reluctantly agreed knowing that Alex was the one with experience in this situation. What a _”Brazilian”_ was, he’d had no clue. Or, rather, he’d been blissfully ignorant. Right up until his tall frame was curled into a ball and the Russian girl had slathered wax right over his asshole. The entire shop had heard him cursing Alex’s name at the top of his lungs and for the next ten minutes straight. 

Of course, he would never admit it to his friend, but the next day at school had been pretty interesting. It was not because he was in pain as he had feared but because he absolutely _wasn’t_ in pain. He couldn’t stop moving and shifting, not used to the sensations a simple lack of hair could create. It was like he was made of silk down there. It felt…well, sexy. 

Finally, earlier that day, the day before he was set to have his big screentest, Alex had taken him to a day spa for a facial and mani/pedi as a good-luck treat. How it was supposed to be a treat, Sam couldn’t have imagined. Those things were for women and despite the fact that he did indeed like cock, he was very specifically, and of this he could not have been more certain, a man’s man. To his chagrin, as he sat there with some fancy goopy black masque on his face, his feet soaking in warm water, his hands being massaged and seated in a massage chair that he was convinced must have been invented by an absolute genius humanitarian, he had reconsidered his stance on the whole spa event being only for women. 

Alex had gotten a big sloppy kiss on the cheek for that one as well as forgiveness for the previous day’s pain. 

Now the preparation was nearing an end. It was no longer something being discussed. It was no longer something being spoken about in theory and speculation. Sam was coming down to the wire and the next day he would either make it or break it in the world of gay porn. 

He was petrified. 

And it wasn’t as if he could even pinpoint what one thing he was terrified of exactly. He’d had sex before. He wasn’t necessarily shy either. He was fairly outgoing when the situation was right. He’d originally thought maybe he was the idea of being watched having sex. He knew there would be a small crew there. But, no. He apparently kind of liked the idea of being watched. He’d never realized it before but the idea kind of turned him on. 

All he could think about was that he was going to look like a huge moron. He’d had several vivid day-mares where he’d imagined himself over-thinking in the moment and rutting mechanically into some hot guy or worse, going so fast and hard that he looked like some sweaty kid that was going to blow his load in fifteen seconds. 

He also knew that was an issue. The process had been explained to him in depth and he knew that he’d have to be up to ‘go’ several times. It wasn’t a one-take kind of deal. They stopped and started. Readjusted for lighting and angles. It could take hours. Most of the guys took something, either orally or by injection, so they could stay hard. Sam wanted to steer clear of this if at all possible. 

Porn wasn’t going to be a lifelong thing. Like Alex said, it’s just for now, not forever. He really didn’t care to have to explain the fact that his dick didn’t work to any future partners because he’d done one too many hits of Viagra during his ‘porn phase’. 

“You know there’s like zero chance of me sleeping tonight right?” 

Alex stepped back and looked him up and down. “You could blow me to get some practice in,” he said as nonchalantly as if he were suggesting they order take out. 

Ever since Sam had agreed to give it a shot, specifically after he’d spoken to his academic advisor who told him delaying classes would put him behind a year and not just a semester, Alex had dropped all walls that had previously existed between them. Where once he would have kept his job details to himself as if that side of his life didn’t exist, he now shouted them out loud and proud. It was nice to feel like their friendship was stronger and without secrets. Sam just didn’t know how he felt about knowing Alex’s last co-star had chapped his ass. Literally. 

Sam just sighed at Alex’s suggestion of a blow-job, drawing a hearty laugh from the other man. 

“Or not. C’mon,” he said motioning for Sam to follow. 

Reluctantly he did just that and was curious to find that he’d been led down the hallway to his own room. Alex indicated the chair that sat in front of a small computer desk upon which his laptop sat. 

“C’mon,” he urged again when Sam hesitated. 

“What, you want to make an amateur version with my web cam?” 

Alex snorted. “You wish. Now plant your ass.” 

Sam obeyed and watched as Alex pulled up several websites, each with it’s own window. 

“Alright. Pay attention; there’s gonna be a quiz. _This_ ,” he clicked on the first page, “is utter shit. This is bargain basement, lit with a fluorescent bulb and filmed with a nineties era camcorder, crap. Bad plot, worse dialogue, and the guys aren’t even all that attractive.” He took it all in and nodded, recognizing the style as being the ‘porn’ that people laughed at. It was the same type of video that had given birth to ‘bow-chicka-woh-wa” as the theme to any and all uncomfortably cheesy stripperesque moments. 

“Whatever you do. Do not do anything that remotely resembles,” he waved his hand in front of the image of two steroid-enhanced dudes banging in a locker room, “whatever _this_ is.” 

“Got it,” he said, his nose wrinkling at the mostly unattractive sight. 

He clicked on the second tab. “Now _this_ is our competition. Well…our unofficial competition. This is BoyXBoy. They don’t have near the resources we do but most of the guys are smokin’ hot. Sometimes Charlie brings them in for scenes. Just to change things up, ya know. He and the guy that runs BXB are old friends so it’s kosher. However, this also is not what you want to do.” He pointed to a guy that looked like he was high on something and seemed barely aware that there was a cock in his ass much less that they had an audience. “The guys are easy on the eyes but half of them are pill heads and the other half are conceited little bitches. It all translates to film. Some things are just hard to hide when you’re being that intimate.” 

Sam nodded thoughtfully, pulling his eyes away from the blitzed out blonde boy that was riding a gorgeous yet bored looking Latin man and looked up at his friend. 

“Now,” Alex held his index finger aloft before theatrically arching it up then driving it down onto the keyboard, bringing up the third and final page. “This is _our_ site.” He quickly typed in a password to allow him access to a huge list of videos that were arranged in thumbnail form and also had a side menu that listed the actors by name. 

“Looks really good. Very…sleek.” It was definitely a step up from the other sites, which easily would have passed for spam pop-ups. This was obviously designed by a professional and looked like a legitimate business website. Only…with naked guys having sex. 

“Yep. And this is going to be your homework.” 

“Homework?” 

Alex raised an eyebrow. “You said you weren’t going to sleep. Instead of worrying, why don’t you put that big nerdy brain of yours to good use and study? You like studying, right?” 

The plan was actually pretty good. He was a studier by nature. He liked knowing how things worked. It would help him and at the same time give him something other to focus on than his nerves. 

“Yeah. Check the guys out. You’re gonna film with Hunter tomorrow so maybe check out his stuff. Get some tips maybe on what he seems to like. Can’t hurt, right?” 

He nodded. “Yeah. Can’t hurt.” 

“Great! So I’ll just leave you to do your thing. Just-,” 

“Don’t blow your load,” they said in unison. 

“Yeah. I know. I’m not thirteen, ya know? I think I can manage to keep my hands off my dick.” 

Alex had been sure to remind him on a daily basis for the several days. The way he’d said it on a loop lately, one would think Sam was some sort of chronic masturbator. It was just that he had to refrain for several days beforehand. So you had enough… _juice_. He’d also had him taking a vitamin cocktail that included zinc in order to “improve the look and quality” of his jizz. 

He felt like rocket science might be somehow less involved than the process of successfully fucking on film. 

After Alex left him, Sam perused the site. He looked at all of the ‘boys’ that made up Coxwell Entertainment. Several of them he’d met at the club the week before. He recognized Richie and Felix. 

Of course he’d met Hunter. The kid had hung all over Alex like he was his biggest fan but he was cute in a ‘twink’ sort of way. Young and thin wasn’t really Sam’s taste in men, but then this wasn’t about whom he wanted to date and Hunter was definitely not lacking in the looks department. 

He saw an Asian man who he vaguely recognized though they had never been formally introduced. His name on the site was listed as Jason Lonely and he’d been one of the guys sitting with Dean at the bar. 

_Dean._

Dean Winchester. There it was. 

He moused over the name and, after a split second’s hesitation, clicked. 

Seeing the man brought it all back. After a week, Sam had thought he’d maybe just imagined how striking the guy was. But no, the proof was in front of him. Even as an image on the screen, he was more gorgeous than Sam remembered. 

Sam wiped his fingers across his mouth to be sure there was no drool there. 

The conversation between them had been short, it was true, but in those few minutes Sam had managed to develop a healthy hard-on for the guy. Mentally as well as physically. 

He’d thought several times about what Dean had said to him. He’d said Sam shouldn’t sign on with Coxwell. Obviously Sam wasn’t going to base his life decisions on a five-minute conversation with a guy he just met. Still he wondered if he’d see Dean again. If maybe he’d change his mind and come back. That was one man that Sam didn’t see being nervous about filming with. One look at that inked up skin, captivating green eyes, and those sweet cock-sucking lips and he was convinced he would be too entranced to care if they were in the middle of Madison Square Garden. 

Looking through the thumbnails of Dean’s videos, he spotted one that looked promising and clicked. He maximized the video to full screen and then sat back in the chair and to get comfortable. 

The screen went black and slowly light filtered in showing a dark-haired man lying on simple white wrought iron bed, the kind that looked like it would be at home in a country cottage. The bed was fitted only with a khaki colored sheet and the room had no other real location identifiers other than a bank of dormer windows across one wall allowing natural light to spill in and fill the space. There was also a painting above the bed that, if his Art History courses served him well, looked to be a Motherwell. Or at least a great copy. 

The man on the bed was lying there in black pajama bottoms and a simple white t-shirt and the level of comfort presented made one think that perhaps this was the man’s own bed. That the camera had just happened upon him while he was lying there, contemplating his morning. It felt very voyeuristic and not at all staged. 

A door could be heard opening and closing and the back of another man came into frame. All he could make out was the dark blonde head of hair and a long sleeve black shirt. The camera angle shifted and the man that had just entered the room filled the screen. 

Sam sighed a little dreamily, though he would never admit that fact in a million years. 

He hadn’t imagined it. The man was utterly gorgeous and without even having said a word, his charisma jumped right off the screen. 

He watched captivated as Dean walked forward towards the bed with a cocky little smirk on his face. The camera angle switched once more and the camera was focused on the man lying on the bed but it was angled and filmed to where the man could be seen through the small gap between Dean’s left arm and his body. It was like looking through the crack in a wall. The man was grinning and looking Dean up and down like it was Christmas morning. 

There was no music, only the outside sounds that filtered through the windows; Birds and a light wind. Still, Dean came back into view and swayed a little to the music in his own head. He crossed his arms and grabbed the bottom hem of his shirt, lifting and pulling it off over his head and revealing a myriad of ink filling his skin. 

Sam bit his lip. 

Dean’s arms were covered in sleeves of intricate black lines interlaced with splashes of color. On his neck was a trio of winged birds in silhouette and at his hip, just to the left of his navel, was the butt of a revolver etched into his skin. This specific tattoo was placed so that it looked like the gun was stuck into the front of his pants and it struck a chord in Sam. A delicious chord. 

He felt himself stir inside of his own pants. 

It was becoming clear that this little adventure was going to teach him just how many kinks he hadn’t known he had. 

Dean sat on the edge of the bed and ran a hand up the other man’s arm before leaning in to kiss him, long and easy. The image slowed just a bit and transformed into the two of them sitting side-by-side on the bed, facing the camera. 

In filmmaking terms, this was known as breaking the fourth wall. Only he quickly realized they weren’t breaking any walls. They were simply playing themselves. 

“I’m Ethan Malone,” the dark hair man said as he lounged back on a stack of pillows. Sam didn’t recognize the name from the list and wondered if he was one of the guys that came over occasionally from BXB that Alex had mentioned. “And I’m here today with the… _infamous_ Dean Winchester.” 

Dean cut his eyes to the guy flirtatiously. “Oh, so I’m _infamous_ now?” 

“Now? Have you ever _not_ been?” 

Dean chuckled at this and shrugged, his eyes focusing on the bed instead of the camera as if a little lost in thought. 

“I am beyond excited to work with Dean because,” Ethan began and it sounded as if he was responding to a question we’d never heard from the person behind the camera. “Well, look at him. He’s hot.” 

Sam rolled his eyes. He could think of a million more things to say on the topic but apparently all the Rhodes Scholar there could come up with was _‘he’s hot’_. 

He saw Dean sniff at this and wondered if he was thinking the same thing. 

“Pretty hot yourself,” Dean returned, turning his head a little to glance at Ethan from the corner of his eye. 

The guy smiled and again it was like he was responding to prompt cards. “Well today is the first time he and I have ever officially met and I have definitely wanted to meet you for a while,” he turned his attention back and forth between the camera and Dean. “Wanted to have a scene with him so much, in fact, that I’m going to be bottoming today and Dean…of course, being the power top that he is, is going to be…” He seemed to be searching for the right words, which Dean quickly and easily supplied with little hesitation. 

“Pounding your ass into oblivion.” 

Sam whimpered at the words as they shot straight through him. 

Ethan rubbed a hand along the top of Dean’s thigh, which was covered in tight dark denim. 

Sam licked his lips imagining momentarily that it was his hand. 

He watched intently as Dean did the same, licked those beautiful pink lips of his, and then reached over to pull the hand up and directly onto his crotch. Ethan snickered and left his hand where it was, beginning to stroke against what lie beneath. 

“I like that he’s a straight to the point kind of guy.” 

“That I am,” Dean agreed, moving instantly off of the bed and yanking Ethan up onto his knees. The undeniable feel to the movement was ‘no more talking’. 

The next few seconds were a flurry of movement as Ethan’s clothes were easily shed and discarded. Then he sat back once more and began stroking himself as the camera angle was now that of the far side of the bed. You could see Ethan in profile, his cock in a firm grip, while Dean hopped up onto the mattress and towered over him. Dean looked down as he ran his hands down his chest, down the chiseled abdominal muscles, and finally over his crotch. 

The camera zoomed in on him as he used the heel of his hand to push against the thick bulge that ran down the left leg of his jeans. It was pretty damn hard to miss, even beneath the dark fabric. 

After another moment he fingered his button fly and slowly pulled until each button gave way revealing a patch of downy blonde hair in the v of the opening. He put his hand down the front of the pants and Sam watched as the hand slid down to wrap around his length and he swallowed hard in anticipation. Alas the hand emerged empty a minute later and he turned, giving Ethan and the camera a great view of his backside. 

His fingers made a foray just below the waistband of the jeans and this time he hooked his thumbs in and pushed the pants down, slowly revealing the top crack of his buttock, then another tattoo on his top right cheek, and then his pants were down unveiling a tight, muscular ass. 

All Sam could think about was his overwhelming urge to sink his teeth into the smooth flesh. 

Dean turned and stuck one foot out towards Ethan who laughed and took the hint pulling at the legs of the jeans, sliding them off the rest of the way. He repeated the process on the other side and when he was done, Dean kicked the pants off towards the windowed wall. He stood there, gloriously naked now, his ‘just the right side of powerful’ body on display as well as his gorgeous, thick cock standing proudly at attention before him. 

Bracing one hand against the top rail of the headboard, Dean leaned forward and grunted as Ethan moved in to capture the impressive length in his mouth. Ethan didn’t even have time to move before Dean was thrusting past the plump lips of the other man, gently fucking his mouth. It was merely an appetizer though. He was giving him just a taste, Sam knew. And from the sound of it and the noises he was making it seemed that Ethan thought that taste was the best thing he’d ever had on his tongue. 

Dean pulled out abruptly and pulled on his dick in long, slow movements as he peered down once more. With a hungry look in his eyes, Dean finally sank down to his knees and straddled the other man. 

At this point, Sam stood and pulled off his shirt, suddenly feeling like the room had gotten warmer, then moved to his own bed carrying the laptop with him. 

If the view hadn’t been so captivating, he might have closed his eyes and allowed himself to picture Dean sitting astride his own lap. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away as Dean leaned forward and began kissing Ethan and grinding against his lap. There was no pretext. There was no disguising it as some sort of contrived scene. These were two beautiful men that wanted to fuck each other and that’s what they were going to do. 

From his position, Dean took a hold of Ethan’s dick and readjusted so that it was settled in the crack of his ass. As he continued to kiss and lick hotly into Ethan’s mouth, Ethan was slowly fisting Dean’s cock with one hand and had the other threaded in the short hair at the back of Dean’s head. Dean moved his hips and gave friction to Ethan that had the guy moaning and arching up instinctively. 

The camera closed in slowly to focus on Ethan’s slick cock sliding back and forth through the crack of Dean’s ass as Dean rocked his hips tantalizingly. 

Sam groaned at the image and slipped both of his hands down the front of his pants. He placed them flat against either side of his own rock hard member and slowly began moving his own hips, fighting to stretch his imagination so that his hands became a substitute for Dean’s ass. Hands were poor substitutes but at the same time he hadn’t gotten laid in a while and had been on a jerk-off free diet so even poor substitutes were easily in that moment the best sensation ever. 

He let his eyes slipped closed momentarily and that’s when he heard the sexiest sound he could ever recall. 

“You want this?” 

The words were growled and made Sam’s cock jump and his asshole clench simultaneously. 

Of course, the question was rhetorical. Who wouldn’t want that? But Ethan moved his hips restlessly now, biting his lower lip and nodding, his eyes never leaving Dean’s even as his hands roamed freely over his torso. 

“Gonna have to beg nice and pretty for me.” 

One second it looked like Dean was a millimeter away from getting impaled on Ethan and then next he had rolled them so that they now lay diagonally across the bed. Dean was once more on top, only now Ethan had somehow managed to get turned right down onto his belly. Dean moved off to the side and slid his hand from Ethan’s shoulder all the way down to the back of his knee as though he were grooming a horse. He massaged and patted his flanks and then smacked hard at his ass. 

Ethan yelped and ground his hips down into the mattress before following it up with a needy little moan. 

Sam echoed the sound and curled his fingers into the skin around his hard-on, aching to touch himself. Knowing he couldn’t. It was such sweet torture. 

Dean popped Ethan’s ass once more before touching him in a way that apparently indicated he wanted the other man to change position. And that’s what he got. Ethan quickly pulled his knees under him so that his chest and head rested flush on the bed but his ass was high in the air. 

“Mmm,” Dean hummed. “I do so love a tight ass. How long has it been, since you got fucked, baby?” 

The use of the endearment was something that Alex had mentioned before. It was a way of not bringing unnecessary attention to the fact that it was Ethan and Dean fucking. Once started, they wouldn’t use their names. It allowed viewers to substitute themselves more easily into the scenario without reality jerking them out of their fantasy. Surprisingly it worked. 

“Too long,” Sam breathed in answer to the question, his fingers dipping down to brush over his tightening balls. “Far too long.” 

Ethan never answered as he was caught off guard by Dean splitting his cheeks open and licking one long stripe right over his hole. 

Sam’s toes curled at the sight. 

“Oh the things I could do,” Dean stage whispered. “The things I’m _going_ to do.” 

The camera pushed in to focus on the tight puckered entrance, slick now with spit and Sam sucked in a hard breath as Dean’s thumb came into view, circling the hole and pressing teasingly into the sensitive flesh. 

Sam grit his teeth and, lightning-quick, grasped the base of his cock tightly to stave off climax. 

It had snuck up on him and he took a deep breath before reaching out to shut the computer lest he get drawn into the video once more. 

He eased himself off of his bed and with a steady beating mantra running through his brain of _don’t come, don’t come, don’t come, don’t come._ he kept his fingers collared around his heavily swollen arousal. He shuffled as quickly as his body allowed to the bathroom at the end of the hall where he turned on the water and immediately stepped in, pants and all. 

“AH! Holy frig! Ah-haha.” he hissed as the icy cold spray hit him. It was as if he were standing in a shower of needles. But it effectively took his mind off of what he’d just seen. What he had just been about to do. 

The bathroom door, as most doors in their tiny Manhattan apartment tended to be, was old and thin. It also had a nearly two-inch gap at the bottom that allowed for any and every sound from the bathroom to be heard. 

In this case it allowed Sam to hear Alex’s laughter loud and clear. “You okay in there?” 

“Fuck off!” Sam returned, torn between wanting to massage his aching junk and knowing he just needed to leave it be. 

“Just think of your parents having sex. That always does it for me.” 

Ignoring the fact that Alex obviously knew exactly what predicament Sam was in, he followed his suggestion and whatever the chilly shower hadn’t managed to kill, that image did just the trick. He sighed in momentary relief. 

By the time the water began to warm, Sam shut it off and stepped out, leaving his soggy cotton pants in the shower. He toweled off and wrapped a second towel around his waist while he continued to scrub water from his hair with the first. 

Alex was still standing casually just beyond the door when he yanked it open, causing him to skid to a stop. He hadn’t expected the other man to still be there although he totally had expected the annoyingly knowing little smirk. 

“Creeper,” Sam teased lightly, elbowing past him. 

“That’s me.” Alex followed him and just outside of his doorway as Sam grabbed underwear from a drawer and slid them on beneath the towel. “So I take it you found something you liked. My videos, right? It’s okay. You can tell me.” 

Sam ignored the playful, if slightly cocky, ribbing and looked thoughtfully at his roommate. He could go online for this but why would he when he had a walking talking porn dictionary right in front of him? 

“Hey Alex, what’s a … _power_ top?” 

Alex stared at him for several seconds, eyes wide. “What’s a power- What kind of gay man are you?” 

Sam rolled his eyes. “The kind that never had to know what a power top is.” 

Alex’s shit eating grin was back in the blink of an eye. “Probably because you _are_ one.” 

“Oh. ‘Kay. Just… Just tell me, dammit.” 

“A power top is a guy that typically _never_ bottoms. Like ever. And…they’re usually a little harder when it comes to sex. Aggressive. Not necessarily in a bad way though.” He shrugged. “Depends on the guy.” 

Though he was loathe to say it, Sam chewed at the inside of his cheek for a moment and then just spit it out in one go. “Um, Dean Winchester?” 

Alex took in the closed laptop sitting askew on the bed and nodded. “Yeah. Dean was… _is_ definitely a power top.” 

“So you had a scene with him?” 

“Sure. Most of us have. He’s been in the business for quite a few years. The guy has at least forty films to his name if not more. Never bottomed once as far as I know.” He shook his head as if in awe. 

Sam blinked, taking in exactly what that meant. “You mean… S-so that’s possible? To only ever top?” 

Alex shrugged again. “Well, yeah. I mean, it’s not slave labor. They aren’t going to make you do anything you don’t want to do. So if you aren’t comfortable…” Alex rolled his hand in a circular motion meant to encompass anything that Sam might not be comfortable with. 

He nodded, though his brain was already miles away, working overtime. He wasn’t sure why it had never occurred to him that this might be a possibility. The idea of it was intriguing. It was like a slight weight off of his shoulder. Perhaps he could do this and retain some integrity. 

Perhaps.


	4. Newb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone that has commented and asked about this story, thank you for your support and patience. This chapter is all about Sam's first time out but I'm also trying to build a world around the sex so, even though there is a little of that thrown in, smut it limited. Also, Dean will be making an appearance in the next chapter which should not take me quite so long to post. Comments and thoughts always much appreciated! :)

[ ](http://s1156.photobucket.com/user/thecalmunderthewaves/media/sam-cox-banner_zpsb0505b22.jpg.html)

  


“Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer me to go with you?” 

Sam looked up from the subway map they had framed and hung on the wall next to the front door of the apartment. It was made to look like a faded relic of old New York, however Sam knew it was just a hand inked map that had been distressed and tea-stained to make the paper look like old parchment. He still remembered buying it for fifteen dollars (negotiated down from twenty) off of a street artist that peddled her wares on the sidewalk outside of the Met. She had looked a little excitable and thin, but not strung out or homeless. Maybe just a little down on her luck and erring on the bohemian side. 

The way she had clutched her paper cup to her chest, as if drawing in its warmth as a particularly cool autumn wind blew around them, had given him the distinct impression that her drug of choice was coffee. He hadn’t thought twice about her situation at the time. He assuredly hadn’t thought of her as someone to be pitied. She was choosing her path the same as everyone else. That had been the naïve eighteen year old in him. He’d been fresh off of the boat, the smell of his parent’s money still clinging to him like a protective barrier against reality. 

Now he saw it for what it was. The girl was an artist to be sure. No one could create something so lovely out of something normally so perfunctory unless they had creativity in their veins. But she was hocking her art to tourists to make ends meet. Tourists that got off on arguing down street vendors like it was a quaint game specific to New York. Like pulling slot handles in Vegas. 

Not that some of them didn’t deserve it. 

_Yeah, sure mister, that’s a real Rolex. I totally believe you when you say that this is their newest, hottest line of watches that replaces the “R” with a “D”. Here’s two hundred dollars of my hard-earned money for that fancy “gold” Dolex. I shall be the envy of all my friends._

And now here he was. Standing there, trying to put off leaving to go shoot his very first porn so that he wasn’t left homeless, sans diploma and completely alone. He was selling _himself_ to make ends meet. 

He sighed. If ever saw that girl again, he would totally buy her a quadruple-shot latte-ccino-mocha-machiatto. Whatever the hell she wanted. Empathy in hindsight was a bitch. 

“Sam?” 

He snapped out of his reverie and frowned at Alex who had been hovering like an overprotective parent all morning. “No _dad_ ,” he said teasingly. “I’m good. Was just checking to be sure I was taking the right train.” 

“You take the F train down to Jay Street.” 

Sam nodded mutely. 

He knew that. He knew that yesterday. He’d known that for a week. Hell, he’d even _been_ to the place already. They’d had to have a meeting to seal the initial deal the previous Saturday. He was simply stalling for time and from the way Alex was looking at him like he was a brain-damaged puppy that could only make left-hand circles, his friend knew it too. 

“Just…close your eyes and jump. Quick like a band-aid.” 

“Quick like a band-aid,” he repeated with a deep breath and a nod. 

Alex put his hands on Sam’s shoulders and squeezed gently. It was a supportive gesture that Sam hadn’t realized he needed until it was there. He pursed his lips and pulled at the sleeves of his roommate’s shirt, reeling him in for a hug. 

“You’ll be awesome.” 

Somehow the whispered words of comfort weren’t really all that comforting. They could have just been sounds floating thru dead air for all it did to calm his nerves. “Maybe you _should_ come with me.” 

Alex held him at arm’s length and quirked an eyebrow. “You _are_ freaking out aren’t you. Look, just go. You’ll regret asking me as soon as we’re there and we both know it. I’m going to be right here,” he pointed at the floor beneath his feet, “all day. I will not leave this spot until you get back. And then we can order takeout and eat ice cream and –,” 

“Braid each other’s hair and talk about our dreamy crushes? Why are you trying to turn me into a teenage girl?” 

Alex rolled his eyes at Sam’s teasing exasperation. “I’ll get Chunky Monkey,” he said in a singsong voice. 

“Chunky Monkey?” He scoffed dramatically. “And you claim to know me.” 

“Mmmm…” he hummed thoughtfully. “Cookie dough?” 

Sam melted just a bit under the thoughtfulness and he gave his friend a small but still tense smile. “Okay. Fine.” 

Sam picked up his messenger bag with all of his signed paperwork, blood test results and a change of clothes should he need them, and he leaned in to give Alex a peck on the cheek. “Thanks.” 

Alex just smirked and turned him around with one hand on his right shoulder, all but shoving him towards the door. 

“Go forth and be the best cocksucker you can be!” 

Sam chuckled and looked back at Alex only to catch site of Miss Weatherly out of the corner of his eye. The middle-aged woman that shared the floor with them, and who they swore had to have a herd of cats if the sounds they sometimes heard through the shared wall were anything to go by, was letting herself into her apartment. At Alex’s words she’d frozen and was staring hard at Sam, her lips drawing up into a disdainful scowl. 

Alex followed Sam’s ‘deer-in-headlights’ gaze and leaned out of the door to give cheerful wave to the woman. Employing his most innocent Eddie Haskell voice, the one filled with saccharine sweet insincerity that assures you they’ve done something naughty but damned if you’re ever going to prove it, he called out, “Good morning Miss Weatherly.” 

She made a dismissive noise and with her pointed noise raised to the heavens, she pushed into her apartment. The air of superiority she held onto looked completely out of place on someone wearing neon green zebra print spandex while sporting skin that was spray-tan orange and pulling her groceries in a rolling cart that was still decorated with swag from Christmas two years before. 

Alex smiled proudly as her door thumped closed and the sound of a deadbolt sliding into place was immediately followed by the metallic grind of a second lock and swish of a chain sliding into the third security measure. Likely she still had her face pressed against the door, watching them through the peephole until they were no longer loitering on the shared landing. 

Sam shook his head and glanced at the stairs that led down to the main door before looking back one last time at his best friend. 

“Like a band-aid,” Alex said once more, the evil grin he’d had for their neighbor morphed into a smile that was both encouragement and understanding. 

Before he could allow himself any further inroads to procrastination, Sam held up a hand and bumped knuckles with Alex before heading out.   


[ ](http://s1156.photobucket.com/user/thecalmunderthewaves/media/sam-cox-banner_zpsb0505b22.jpg.html)

  


When Sam arrived at Coxwell Entertainment’s Brooklyn based office, the train ironically arriving far quicker than it ever did when he was actually in a hurry, he was twenty minutes early. The guy seated behind the front desk greeted him with a friendly smile as he finished up a phone call. 

His name was Brandon, Sam recalled from his previous visit, and he managed the office for Charlie and David. He was tall and willowy and could only be described as pretty with his short dark wavy hair and soft brown eyes. His look was sharp but his smile welcoming. It also didn’t hurt that he had a British accent and Sam had always had a thing for guys with accents. 

Finally finished with his call, Brandon stood and moved from behind the front desk to greet him. “Mr. Campbell. Good morning.” 

“G-Good morning. Um, call me Sam. Brandon, isn’t it?” 

“Good memory, Sam,” the man said with an appreciative tilt of his head. He crossed toward the corner of the small front lobby and approached the mini bar that sat between two sleek black high-back chairs. “Would you care for a coffee? Tea?” 

“No. Thank you.” 

“Perhaps lemon water?” Sam shook his head. “Alright. Do let me know if you change your mind.” 

“You will be the absolute first to know, Brandon.” 

Brandon beamed at him, though Sam couldn’t tell if it was genuine or if he was just that good at being charming. “If you’d like to have a seat, Charlie should be along shortly.” 

It struck Sam odd, once more, how Charlie Coxwell seemed to have such a laid back relationship with those who worked for him. It was never ‘Mr. Coxwell’. Everyone just seemed to know that it was just ‘Charlie’. 

The whole company, or what Sam had seen of it so far, seemed to be thriving and yet internally it felt like one big party where everyone was friends and they were all in it together. That fact had caught his attention the week before when he’d been shown around the offices and introduced to the main staff. Brandon was obviously the lead but there were two other assistants, one for each of the bosses. He’d met several of the other models that hadn’t been at Swell that first night and each one welcomed him and seemed very genuine when they said they hoped to work with him in the future. There had been Charlotte, the resident makeup artist, Willis and Tom who worked as security, and he had even been introduced to Charlie’s mother who, bless her heart, seemed almost too at home in the world of gay pornography. 

Everyone had seemed so happy and relaxed. The stress level was low and none of it seemed like the foundation of seriously profitable corporation. And yet it was. 

The office itself was a perfect example of their successful fusion of business and pleasure. Beyond the glass and steel of the ultra-modern décor, the walls were filled with a mix of magazine covers and ads, all of which featured their models. Littered amongst those large-scale prints were framed candid shots of the guys throughout the years. 

There was a shot of a young clean shaven Charlie grinning widely and standing with his arm slung around the neck of a stoic David, who looked exactly the same as he did now even though the picture had to be ten years old if not more. 

There were shots of a few of the guys getting prepped with makeup, their laughing eyes cut towards one another as though they were counting the seconds until they were let at each other. 

There was a picture of Felix lying on the ground in Paris while the camera was angled perfectly so that the Eiffel Tower was sprouting from the front of his jeans. Richie was there as well, leaning in with his tongue out as if to lick the cock-tower. 

There were pictures of Jason and Alex in go-go shorts, gripping tightly and swinging with athletic grace around poles at sweLL. 

There were tons of group photos as well. The one that caught his eye was a small grouping of the guys at the beach. There were twelve beach towels laid out in a perfect line, each filled with one of the Coxwells or the Coxwell boys. All of them had been caught in the midst of various actions. Some of them had their eyes closed as they sprawled out to soak up the sun. One guy was rubbing lotion on the younger man next to him, both looking like the simple act was getting them plenty revved up. Most of them had a drink of some sort but Hunter specifically was waving around a pink concoction that gave Sam a toothache just by looking at it. Charlie was closest to the camera and he was passing something to the guy next to him that looked like, but was most decidedly _not_ , a cigarette. Richie and Alex were both red-faced and laughing hysterically at something Felix was saying. Then, there in the middle of it all was a bare chested Dean Winchester, his inked arms resting on his knees. 

Dean was smiling alongside Richie and Alex but, unlike the other two, his eyes were still as he looked off into the distance only partially aware of what was going on around him. It was that same thousand-yard stare that Sam had seen creep into his eyes at the club right before Dean had walked away. Like he was somewhere else other than in his body. He couldn’t help but wonder where that was. 

Taking one last long look at the image, he moved down the wall to the next pair of pictures. In the first there was only three people. Charlie, his brother looking uncomfortable but still happy, and Dean standing in between, his arms around both of them, each one dressed stylishly in a tailored tuxedo. Charlie was holding tight to a clear cut statuette which looked exactly like a glass dildo. It also happened to look like an award and the triumphant look in their eyes supported this theory. While David looked at the camera, Charlie was staring down happily at the phallic shape in his hand. Dean’s eyes were trained solely on Charlie. There was something there in that gaze. Friendship or something more he couldn’t say, but it was there in that bigger than life grin. 

Pulling his eyes away, he glanced at the second photo and a bark of laughter burst from his mouth. He slapped a hand over his lips and stared. In this photo, Dean was obviously trying to deep-throat the crystal penis, his eyes wide as he stared straight at the camera and playing up a look of faux surprise as though he’d been caught in the act. It seemed such a goofy thing to do and the wide grass green eyes were laughing. It made Sam immediately smile. 

It also made him wonder what had happened between that picture and the one at the beach? 

The curiosity over the differences in demeanor wore thin as he continued to blatantly stare at the photo before him. He shifted a bit uncomfortably as the obvious train of thought left the station. After all, it was Dean deep-throating something in front of him and dammit he hadn’t gotten of in _DAYS_! 

There was only so much one man could take. 

He stepped away quickly to his left, still unable to as yet pry his eyes off of the photo, and felt his hip brush against something, tipping it precariously off kilter. His head whipped around just in time to see Charlie snatch the sparkling crystal dick – the very one that had been halfway down Dean’s gullet - out of mid-air. 

“I…Oh god! I-I’m _so_ sorry!” 

Charlie’s answering smile was easy and decidedly amused. “Brandon,” he called over his shoulder, his eyes never straying from Sam’s. “I think we may need to up the insurance with this one around.” He winked at Sam letting him know he was teasing and Sam blushed wanting nothing more than to crawl back home and hide his face for the next year. 

“I’m a bit of a clutz,” he confessed as Charlie placed the award carefully back onto the small black waist-high pedestal. “Did Alex warn you?” 

Charlie’s eyes narrowed in thought and he pursed his lips. “I believe it may have been mentioned. But I honestly can’t remember much beyond his stellar recommendation. And of course, once I met you and saw you for myself…” The smile he gave made Sam think of warm summer nights and tangled sheets. He shivered in a fairly pleasant way. “Well, I think thought pretty much went out the window after that, altogether.” 

He was _flirting_ , Sam realized. Charlie was flirting with him. Alex had warned him that this was how it was. It was just the way Charlie communicated. He was a flirt and a charmer but he didn’t mean any harm. If he wasn’t attractive, it may have been an issue. But the shallow truth was, Sam kind of liked being flirted with by the hot millionaire boss. 

“So,” Charlie clapped his hands together. “Are you ready to get started?” 

The whole high from flirting rushed out of him like air from an escape balloon and he rolled his lips between his teeth knowing if he attempted to speak, the words were going to be anything but confident. He settled on a short but efficient nod. 

Charlie’s warm smile never faltered as he rubbed at Sam’s arm. “It’s alright. You’re going to be amazing. I haven’t gotten this far by being dense about these things. Trust me.” 

Sam just nodded once more and let himself be led into the back.   


[ ](http://s1156.photobucket.com/user/thecalmunderthewaves/media/sam-cox-banner_zpsb0505b22.jpg.html)

  


“To the left more. Perfect. Angle your head… Yeah, just like that. You’re doing great.” 

Sam kept his eyes focused on the spot on the camera just above the lens, as he’d been directed when they’d begun, maintaining the instructed look of excited longing as best he could. 

The photo shoot was his first event in the porno trials. 

Charlie explained that it was simply a photo test for modeling jobs as there was legitimate modeling work that came with the gig. Coxwell was involved with two underwear brands, a line of sex toys, sweLL as well as a few other clubs in which they had a vested interest, and even an up and coming fashion house that marketed heavily to the LGBT community but primarily young men like himself. From a business standpoint, it was fascinating to learn about the other facets of the company. Charlie was a large-scale thinker and liked to mine resources for mutually beneficial promotion. 

“Alright. Relax for a second while we change out this lighting,” Kyle the photographer announced and Sam did just that. Or the closest approximation he could get to it. And he almost managed to start thinking about loosening up, but then Kyle looked up at him as he readjusted his lighting apparatus and instructed him to strip. 

Sam groaned inwardly and his entire body seized up into one giant knot of not-relaxed. 

Sam looked down. He was wearing something similar to the hot pants that the go-go boys at sweLL had been wearing the week before, only his were blue, so it wasn’t as if he was exactly covered up. But once the drawers dropped… 

He hesitated and looked at Charlie who’d been sitting off to the side watching the process with keen interest. 

“It’s standard,” he explained when Sam gave pause. “We do have promo images for films. There’s an image gallery on the site. Things like that. Just gives us an visual to reference when planning further shoots.” 

Of course. Sam knew that. Besides, how ridiculous would it be to get prudish over photographs when his afternoon was going to involve performing some seriously intimate, not to mention naked, acts with another man? 

No modesty allowed on that one. No sir. 

Figuring he’d just take the plunge ( _quick like a band-aid_ ), he hooked his thumbs under the elastic band of the shorts and lowered them all the way to the floor. 

When he stood upright once more, he was acutely aware of two things. 

First, he was experiencing a serious draft. Was there a window open or something? 

Second, the photographer, his assistant, and Charlie had all gone stock still and were staring unabashedly at him. Not that they hadn’t been before. This just felt different. Like… ‘open-mouthed, unblinking, holy fuck’ kind of staring. 

He bit his lip and tried to look pulled-together. Unaffected. Cool. Like he stood stark naked in front of perfect strangers every damn day. 

Really it was all he could do to force himself not to move his hands front and center to act as shields. 

Had he been overwaxed? Stupid Alex and his stupid ideas! 

Or maybe there was too much in the way of pubage down there? He’d requested a small patch of hair remain during his traumatic waxing experience, wanting to give off the appearance that he had in fact achieved puberty. 

Maybe he was weird looking. He’d never had any complaints before but maybe the one girl and the…um, _more than one_ guys he’d been with were just being nice when they said he had a great body. 

He was aware that irrational paranoia was setting in due to his state of supreme vulnerability and he gritted his teeth, willing someone to say something. _Anything_. 

Finally he heard Charlie clear his throat and let out a harsh curse. 

It didn’t sound like an unhappy curse. In fact, it sounded fairly appreciative. The sound was one that made you think of teenage boys hiding untimely boners behind fat chemistry books. 

The tone had him subconsciously puffing out his chest like he was cock of the walk and subtly flexing the muscles of his stomach, paranoia and self-consciousness but a memory. 

Nature was a funny thing. 

“Hey boss! I know I’m a little early but I… I… Aye-yai-yai…,” came a stuttering voice off to the side of the studio. 

Sam turned and found Hunter staring at him owlishly. When he realized Sam was staring back, his gaze refocused on Charlie as he pointed at Sam. “If that gets any bigger, I’m demanding hazard pay.” 

At that, Charlie chuckled and ran a hand over his mouth, smoothing down the hairs of his blonde beard. The way he continued to stare at Sam, the heat in his eyes, had Sam’s biting his lip unable to look away. 

Suddenly he didn’t really feel all that shy anymore.   


[ ](http://s1156.photobucket.com/user/thecalmunderthewaves/media/sam-cox-banner_zpsb0505b22.jpg.html)

  
“So how long have you been doing this?”

It was getting closer and closer to the moment of truth and Sam was ready to jump out of his skin. Charlotte, a tiny brunette with a big New York attitude, had been applying copious amounts of makeup to him, though he wasn’t sure why. If he did the job right, he was just going to sweat it all off under the heat of the lights and… 

“Three years,” he heard Hunter answer from where he stood not five feet away, doing a last minute trim on his body hair of which there was next to none. The kid looked so insanely young. 

“Three years? How old are you?” he asked a little incredulous. For a split-second he started to calculate and began praying that the operation was on the up and up. Getting arrested for getting it on with a minor was _not_ the way he planned on going out. 

“Don’t worry,” he hears humor in Hunter’s voice. “I’m twenty-one next month. All legal and everything.” 

Sam closed his eyes as Charlotte began plucking stray hairs around his eyebrows. He tried not to flinch too hard but _fuck that hurt_! His eyes began to water. Who would have thought pulling a tiny hair out of your face could be so painful? It was almost worse than the Brazilian from Hell. 

Almost. 

“You been here all three years?” When Sam had actually gotten around to looking at Hunter’s stuff on the website the night before he’d found only five videos, making him think that Hunter might have been a newbie like him not so long ago. Apparently this wasn’t the case. 

“Started last fall with Coxwell. Was in with a company in Hollywood before that.” 

“Ah. A west coaster. What made you make the move?” 

With no warning whatsoever, Charlotte shoved a small electric trimmer up his nose and on instinct Sam batted it away. 

She shoved it in his face with a no-nonsense glare, showing him what it was. “You want to look like a gorilla with nose pubes?” Her overly large hoop earings swung back and forth violently as she wiggled her head. 

He didn’t rightly know what to say to that, so he shook his head slowly and leaned back, offering his nose up to her to do with it what she would. 

Sam could hear Hunter laughing softly over her shoulder but he did finally answer once Sam was good and clear of any… _nose pubes_ and the tiny trimmer was turned off. 

“The guys I was working with out there?” He scoffed in disgust. “They were complete brutes, man. Big meatheads with something to prove and nothing to lose. Plus…” his voice got a little stringy and strained and Sam glanced around Charlotte’s petite frame to see Hunter frowning down at the glass top dressing table. He saw a whole lot of extra years in the younger man’s eyes. “They don’t all treat you well, ya know? Other actors. Bosses.” He looked up and caught Sam’s eyes in the mirror. 

Sam nodded. He understood to a point. Alex had told him horror stories about shady companies and how they abused the talent. Physically and psychologically. Obviously he couldn’t know what Hunter really went through, but he could tell it hadn’t been easy. 

But Hunter blinked and the haunted look he’d had before was gone. “You know Alex was my first here?” When Sam indicated that he hadn’t, Hunter looked at him with a wistful smile. “Yeah. My first time ever with another guy, it was on film. And fuck he tore me up. I was wrecked for weeks afterwards. But here, first time with Alex…” he sighed. “He was like a fuckin’ white knight after the shits I was with before. Took me aside and talked to me like a real person. Asked me if there was anything I wanted him to do during. Wanted me to enjoy it. All I could think was who does that?” 

“Alex is a great guy,” Sam agreed. “But, you know that should be the way it is, don’t you? With anyone. I get that it’s a job but it doesn’t have to feel like it. Right?” 

Part of him realized that as much as he was speaking logically, the questions were really there in his own mind and he wanted Hunter to confirm that he was indeed right in this. 

Hunter nodded and smiled even though his eyes showed signs of surprise. “It never fails to amaze me.” 

“What?” 

“That I’m here. And can enjoy what I do. And Sam,” he leaned closer as Charlotte moved away and began packing up her makeup. “I _am_ gonna enjoy this. I can tell.” He not so covertly glanced down at Sam’s lap, which was now once again covered by his own jeans. 

“Uh...thanks. I think. Me…Me too.” 

The younger man smirked and held out a hand, pulling Sam out of the chair and moving to head towards the far side of the room where the set was located. It was in a corner next to the window that had been made to look like an industrial space converted into a loft and there was a white-sheet pulled taught over a simple platform bed which sat beneath the window. 

“Hey Hunter?” 

The kid looked back at him with an open and friendly face. “Yeah?” 

“Got any last minutes tips for me?” 

Hunter retraced his steps and looked up at Sam as if weighing his words. “As much fun as it can be, sometimes it gets pretty mechanical with all of the reshoots. If I stop doing it for you, think of someone you want so hard it isn’t funny. Anything you need to keep it up and keep it fresh. Nobody is here for a relationship. You won’t hurt my feelings if you aren’t really fucking ‘me’.” 

Sam nods and looks at the floor thoughtfully. “Yeah. Thanks.” He says, and he means it. 

“Now c’mon. I want that thing in me, dude.” He leered down at Sam’s crotch. “This is going _on_ and being immediately checked _off_ of my bucket list.”   


[ ](http://s1156.photobucket.com/user/thecalmunderthewaves/media/sam-cox-banner_zpsb0505b22.jpg.html)

  


Three and a half hours later, Sam wobbled over to a chair wearing nothing but a grimace. Any lingering shyness he might have been holding on to had been obliterated by hours of kissing, licking, slipping, sliding, ramming, eating, and cuming. 

JesusHChrist, he didn’t know he had that much fluid in his body. 

The director, Elvis – so nicknamed not because he exhibited any notable talents that resembled the late King of rock ‘n roll, but because he had a giant beer belly and a questionable affinity for rhinestones that one doesn’t usually see outside of the deep south or in strip clubs – handed him a bottle of water and slid into the seat beside him. 

“Fuckin’ brilliant kid. Fuckin’ brilliant! Never seen so many cum-shots out of a newb in my whole damn career. And I’ve seen lots. Filmed Ron Jeremy twice,” he managed to boast on the tail end of the compliment. 

Sam would have arched an eyebrow if he’d had the energy. He expended every ounce of what energy he had left on opening the water. Now if he could just…get…it..to his…mouth… 

He took a sip and let his head drop back between his shoulders. 

He did it. It was did. Done. Did-done. 

Hunter, the little shit, he thought somewhat affectionately as he watched the kid bounce around the set aimlessly, didn’t even seem to be slowed down by any of it. He was just as energetic as when they had started. 

As if hearing Sam’s thoughts, Hunter turned and b-lined directly to Sam, sliding wordlessly onto his lap and wrapping his arms around Sam’s neck. 

“Get your ass away from me.” he intoned with mock indignation. Still, his own long arms managed to wrap around the smaller man, holding him where he was and let his head fall onto Hunter’s shoulder. Funny how nearly four hours of sex, not to mention chatting between setups, with someone can make you comfortable with them on levels and in ways you never might have been otherwise. 

“You love my ass. I believe you said it was… ‘ _hot_ ’. Isn’t that the word he used, Elvis?” 

“You’re just lucky I’m too wiped to drop that pretty ass on the floor.” 

Hunter swung between pouting and laughing right up until Charlie approached them a few minutes later. “Roach is ready.” He jerked his head towards a small production office off of the main studio room. The young man with far too much energy, hopped up and pulled Sam to his feet as they all followed Charlie. 

“So what are we doing?” 

Charlie looked back at him and smiled, his teeth flashing brightly. “Dailies, if you will. You can see rough footage of what was just shot.” Hunter pranced forth alongside Elvis and Charlie’s hand closed around Sam’s arm holding him back. “Before you see this I just have to say…” Sam smiled at the giddy tone in the other man’s voice and waited to hear that he’d done well. Or at least hadn’t sucked. “I’m a freaking genius.” 

Sam was taken aback by the words. He had no idea how to even respond to that. 

And then Charlie laughed making Sam realize it had merely been a joke. “Seriously though, I had a feeling about you and it was spot-fucking-on! I can’t believe how amazing you are, Sam. It’s like you were born for it. BXB are going to be clawing their eyes out when they see this one.” 

He pulled Sam along and his excitement was infectious. Sam found himself actually wanting to see the video where before the idea of actually witnessing himself laid bare on film was enough to make him want to gag. Now he just wanted to see what had the great Charlie Coxwell giggling like a mad man. 

“So this is rough cut. Obviously,” droned the pale, scrawny man seated at a large control board. This was Roach. He’d been introduced during a break earlier and it wasn’t hard to see where that nickname came from. It looked like the guy hadn’t seen life outside of the darkened production office in years. Apparently he was an editing wizard though, so Sam watched intently as fingers slid deftly over the massive row of controls and a video lit the wide screen above him. 

There it was. His first film.   


[ ](http://s1156.photobucket.com/user/thecalmunderthewaves/media/sam-cox-banner_zpsb0505b22.jpg.html)

  


“Sam and Hunter. Take 1. Marker.” 

The lighting guy slapped the clapperboard and moved out of the frame to reveal Sam and Hunter seated cross-legged on top of the platform bed in the corner of the loft space. 

Out of the black metal-framed windows, there was an unmistakable view of the topside of the Brooklyn Bridge. The windows were tinted just enough to allow the light to filter through, but not so much that it created a glare for the camera. It also cast a beautiful natural light on the pair of them. 

Even Sam was not blind to the fact that between the makeup and light talc covering his body along with the soft light, he looked like he was glowing from the inside. Hunter too. They looked almost supernaturally beautiful. Charlotte had done her job well. 

“Alright, Hunter,” he heard Elvis begin directing from behind the camera. “You know the drill. You introduce yourself first. Then Sam.” 

“My voice’ll be cut out of course,” the Elvis currently standing across from Sam explained, never removing his eyes from where they were glued to the screen. 

“I’m Hunter,” Hunter gave a shy little smile which is totally hammed up for film. “And this delicious man next to me is Sam. Sam is a virgin.” 

Sam heard himself make a sound that was not quite a squeak but not exactly a cough either. Hopefully they would cut that part out too. 

Hunter ran his hand soothingly along Sam’s arm and then moved to push his fingers through Sam’s hair. “A film virgin, that is,” he explained coquettishly into the camera. “It’s his first time.” 

“When did you meet?” Elvis prompts. 

“I met Sam a week ago. At a club,” He adds, with a growing smile and eyes that cut coyly to Sam. 

Sam saw what he did there and wondered if maybe Charlie had choreographed that one. Never mind the fact that it was technically the truth. The viewer would immediately see them as a random hookup from a club and not two people being paid to do the dirty. It added just a hint of reality to the situation, getting the viewer to invest just that little bit more in what was happening. 

“Were you attracted to him when you first saw him?” 

“I saw him and…” Hunter scoffed and let his eyes rove slowly over Sam, top to bottom. “I mean, how can you look at him and not think, ‘I need this man to fuck me _right now_!’? He’s smart and funny but he’s stupid gorgeous.” 

Hunter danced around that one. Sam specifically remembers the younger man having eyes only for Alex that night. Not that he’s worried about it. He just takes note of the fancy footwork. He had a sneaking suspicion that Hunter was pretty damn smart himself. Moreso than he let on. 

“And Sam? What did you think when you first saw Hunter? Keep it conversational,” Elvis disembodied voice instructed. 

“Well I mean look at _you_ ,” he took his bottom lip between his teeth and rolled it slightly. “Don’t know if I’ve ever seen such a…hot…ass.” 

He felt heat flood his face. He had completely flubbed that one. He’d had no clue what to say. His preparation for the big day had been an exercise in excessive worry over the actual act itself. He had never given much thought to the fact that he’d have to actually talk. He sounded like a grade A moron. 

Thankfully noone else seemed to pick up on that fact. Charlie, Elvis, Hunter and even Roach still had their eyes focused to the screen. Each one of them looked edgy with anticipation. 

He knew it was coming… Any second now. 

“Can you maybe…say something else to that effect?” Elvis had asked sounding a little annoyed that he was having to prompt for more. 

He still remembered the moment. Still knew exactly what he had been thinking. At that moment, Hunter’s words had come back to him. He could imagine anyone he wanted. It was all just pretend. 

In that moment that had been captured on film and was flashing before his eyes now, his first thought had instantly been to imagine Dean Winchester. 

To talk about what he’d seen in Dean that night that made him want to taste him. Want to have him. Want to know him. 

He’d wanted to talk about miles of marked skin and freckles and eyes that looked like a budding leaf in Spring. About a mouth to which better men than him throughout history would have written sonnets. 

He couldn’t say that. ‘Hot ass’ was as articulate as his spur of the moment dialogue got. 

So instead, he’d thought of the video of Dean that he’d so nearly gotten off to the night before. Thought of how easy the man had made it all look. How take-charge he was. How damn hot _that_ was. And there it was. His brilliant idea. 

He wouldn’t imagine _Hunter_ was Dean. Sam would imagine _he_ was Dean. 

On screen, Sam shook his head and stared intently down at Hunter’s mouth. In a page that, to him, looked stolen straight out of the Dean Winchester playbook, Sam smirked cockily. “Fuck the talking.” And with that grand statement, filled with every ounce of swagger he could muster, he’d wrapped his hand around the back of Hunter’s neck and pulled him towards him, locking their lips together. Just rough enough to be hot but not so much that it looked like he was eating the kid’s face. 

Tongues swept back and forth, sometimes seen through a gap between their fused mouths and he remembered thinking that they were tasting one another. Thinking that Hunter tasted like sugary sweet jelly beans. The good kind. 

Hunter moaned and for a second Sam thought it was on screen but then he realized it had come from the actual man in front of him. “You’re really good at that. For the record,” he explained, ducking his head but continuing to watch from beneath his lashes. 

Sam stripped Hunter first and then himself. He stood on the side of the bed, looking down at Hunter who still wore a white jockstrap while Sam was down to just his red boxer briefs. It was as if some primal part of him had been awakened and had been jockeying for the driver’s seat in Sam’s brain. 

He’d had sex. He knew how to have sex. But the adrenaline rush of being filmed coupled with the idea of playing Dean’s role took the act to a whole new level of amazing. The pheromones were flowing through the room like a following the bouncing ball video and Sam had been drunk with the feel of it all. 

He’d crawled slowly from the foot of the bed on his hands and knees and once at his destination, held himself above Hunter. His arms flexed as they held him aloft, and hips rolled as he pushed their cloth-covered cocks against one another. Hunter’s hands had run up and down his flanks, his whimpers urging him to go faster, harder, something that would give him more. But it had to last. Couldn’t be a wham-bam. Had to draw it out. 

So he lowered himself and pulled Hunter’s legs up until the younger man got the idea and wrapped both of those strong legs around Sam’s hips. They kissed and rubbed against one another with an aggression fueled by excitement. Both seeking and needing the friction that it provided desperately. The muscles of his back flexed and bunched with the movement. 

Watching it now, Sam was sure his dick would have stirred at the sight if he hadn’t already hit his load limit for the day. 

Though he dared not look around the room, the shifting in his peripheral vision made him think that the others were finding it just as visually stimulating. 

Roach moved some controls and the video leapt forward. “Want you to see this one,” he explained. 

The video stopped abruptly and front and center was a close up of Hunter’s asshole. The dark pink pucker was already slick with spit but Sam had pulled back to readjust, he thought. 

“Hey look, it’s your face,” Sam poked. 

Hunter stuck his tongue out and reached past Charlie to punch Sam in the arm but he laughed while he did it. 

The ability to tease the other man was something Sam relished. He hadn’t liked the idea that things would be weird with the person he was working with and he’d fully expected nothing but awkwardness before, during, and after. But somewhere between the first time they’d been fused together by cum as the crew had worked to get the second camera into a different position and the second time he’d tongue-fucked Hunter’s hole, they’d struck up a fairly interesting camaraderie. They’d been cleaned up, hosed down, and touched up between goes and during that down time, the two had talked about the usual. Movies, books, music… They literally had next to nothing in common, however they’d found that their sense of humors meshed nicely. Neither was particularly thin-skinned and they liked the give and take of the almost brotherly barbs. 

The group watched as Sam put one, then two, then three lube-slicked fingers into the clenching hole and turned and twisted them in and out with a rhythm that could set toes to tappin’. Sam heard his breath hitch on screen as he pushed to find the right spot and tossed Hunter a self-satisfied smirk when the Hunter on the screen jerked up, crying out wildly as Sam repeatedly hit just the right spot inside of him. No acting required. 

Hunter rolled his eyes and shook his head but gave Sam a little golf clap for his troubles. 

They watched on until the angle changed completely. Roach worked over the controls for a moment and finally there was a split screen. The video was synced perfectly. The left side of the screen showed Sam from behind while the right was focused on both of their profiles. 

“This, was the best shot, I think,” Elvis watched with an earnest eye, looking for missed angles. 

The video played on and Sam watched himself pounding into Hunter, ass clenching as he fought to hold on for just a little longer. Hunter was on his knees and Sam’s hands were grasping hard at his shoulders to gain purchase so that he could go harder as Hunter was pleading with him to do. 

Finally he raked his nails down Hunter’s back, the other man hissed and threw his head back with the pleasure pain, and Sam gripped his hips. Yanking him back harder and harder as he continued to thrust as well, the bruising pace had them both glistening with sweat and he watched as the camera angle followed him. Sam’s head was thrown back, mouth slack and eyes lightly rolling up into this head. A groan of sheer gratification rumbling up from within him. And an answering cry came from beneath him. 

They’d done the quick flip on every other take, moving Hunter so he could cum on his stomach and Sam pulling out and yanking off the condom so that he could do the same. This take had been different though. This had been the last take. They had just let things go on this one, knowing they had enough cum shots to give them what they needed. 

This shot had been the best. Just he and Hunter running on fumes. Delirious with exhaustion. Dehydrated. He had been raw and sore and ready to be done. And yet still there he was, smiling that cocky Winchester-esque smile on the screen as he ran his fingers through his hair and slapped Hunter’s rear playfully one last time before he pulled out. 

Sam was floored. He hadn’t seen an ounce of himself on screen. Sure it was his body. It was his face. But it seemed that he had something of a decent acting ability. Because every moment he’d watched himself on screen had been a moment where he’d been channeling someone else. Channeling Dean. 

And somehow… it had _worked_.


End file.
